


Born Under a Bad Sign

by hunter_king



Series: Supernatural - Wincest [25]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Possessed Sam Winchester, Slash, Swearing, Top Dean Winchester/Bottom Sam Winchester, Violence, spoilers for s02e14 - Born Under a Bad Sign
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 11:02:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16680388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunter_king/pseuds/hunter_king
Summary: While Sam is possessed by Meg, she learns a few interesting things about the young Winchester brother. Like his more than brotherly feelings for Dean. And what better way to break a couple of Winchester boys than to act on those feelings?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the spn_reversebang in September 2018  
> Beta'd by jdl71  
> Art by jayleigh905 ([here](https://jayleigh905.livejournal.com/742.html))

Sam stared at the blood covering his shirt, his hands, and the splashes on his jeans. He couldn't remember what happened. All he knew was that one minute he was in some no name town in West Texas with Dean, and then next, he wasn't. Sam had been scrolling through the local news feeds for anything suspicious, and Dean had been using those stupid magic fingers that he liked so much.

And no, Sam hadn't been watching the way his brother's lip disappeared between his straight white teeth. And he hadn't been listening to those soft little moans that were breaking from Dean. Sometimes, Sam swore his brother did these things just to drive him nuts. Of course, that was crazy because Dean had no idea about the dirty little thoughts Sam had running through his head. And he _never_ would.

But Sam couldn't focus on that right now. He had bigger things to pay attention to. Like for instance, he needed to get cleaned up. However, when he went to move, his body wasn't listening. Fear gripped him tightly as he tried to move once more. That's when he heard the voice in his head. He wasn't alone in here.

_“Sorry, Sammy,” the voice cooed. “I can't have you cleaning up the evidence of our latest kill. Not before Dean sees what you've done.”_

Before Sam knew what was happening, his hands were on his cell phone, dialing a familiar number without his permission. Again, he tried to take control of his body. But he just couldn't. Whatever was inside of him was too strong. He could hear his voice coming from his lips, but he had no control over the words. 

The panic and fear was clear in Sam's tone as he begged Dean to come help him. “Dean, please, I don't know what's happening! I just woke up in a motel room and-and I'm covered in blood!” In the mirror on the other side of the room, Sam saw his lips twist up into a malicious smirk before the panicked look came back. “Dean, please, help me. I'm-I'm at a motel. In Twin Lakes. Room 109. Please hurry?”

As soon as the phone went dead, Sam's body finally moved. But it wasn't Sam controlling it. He walked toward the mirror, his fingers wrapping around the end table as he leaned over, staring at himself in the mirror. “You're probably very confused about what's happening here, aren't you, Sam?” he asked himself.

There was no need to answer. Whoever was controlling his body was inside his head. “What you did to me in Sioux Falls really hurt my feelings, Sammy,” his voice continued. His eyes slid down to the end table before they slowly looked at his reflection again. This time however, they were pitch black. “C'mon, Sammy, you can't tell me you don't remember me.”

_Meg._ Sam remembered it like it had been yesterday. _What did you do to me?!_ Sam demanded, trying with everything he had in him to fight her off. _How are you here?! Dean and I sent you back to Hell!_

Rolling Sam's eyes, Meg pushed herself away from the end table, moving toward the bed once more. “Oh yes, you did, Sam,” she answered. “Trust me, I couldn't forget that. It took me a while, but I managed to get back topside. And the _only_ thing that I could think about while doing it was getting my revenge.”

Inky black eyes glanced down at the blood stained clothing Sam was wearing. Another malicious smile curled to his lips. “And I figured, what better way to get my revenge than to possess you and see how far I can push the two of you.” Taking a seat on the bed once more, Meg continued, “You see, when I first came up with this master plan of mine, I had originally wanted to see how far I could push Dean. I wanted to see if I could get him to kill you.”

Again, Meg allowed their eyes to meet in the mirror. “But once I climbed into this pretty little meat suit of yours, I've changed my mind. I think it would be so much better if I could break Dean in a different way. I've been inside your head now for about a week, Sammy. I've seen _all_ of those little secrets you try to hide away from everyone else. _Especially_ Dean. Maybe I'll see just how far big brother is willing to go to keep little Sammy happy.”

_No._ Sam was fuming. How dare this demon climb into him and violate him this way! _Dean will never do it. And he'll never believe you. He'll know something is wrong. You'll be giving yourself up._

It didn't seem as though Meg believed him. Instead, she merely shrugged. “Oh well. If he gets suspicious of anything, we'll just...kill him.” Again, she smiled. “Then your secret will still be safe, Sammy.”

Another smile came to Meg's lips as she laid back on the bed, arms stretched above her head. “Mmmmm,” she moaned in pleasure. “I love this body of yours, Sam. You take such good care of it. Make sure it's strong. That's one of the reasons why I took such pleasure in killing that hunter with you. He didn't stand a chance against this body.”

Dread filled Sam at Meg's words. _What did you do?_ he demanded. Sam had read about demon possession, but he had never experienced it himself. Not until now, anyway. Luckily, Meg must have kept him from seeing what she was doing when she killed a man with Sam's body. She probably knew that he would do whatever it took to fight back. 

“Well, I was going to take Dean to the scene of the crime,” Meg explained. “Let him see that his precious baby brother killed another hunter in cold blood. But now...I think I'm going to change my plans just a little bit. And Dean-o never has to know about the hunter that died by your hands. Sound good, Sam?”

_You're sick!_ Sam argued. But he had to admit that he was a little grateful Dean didn't have to know about the hunter. What would his brother think of him if he knew that someone was dead because of Sam? Would Dean know that it hadn't been Sam leading the ship? Or would he think Sam was guilty. Knowing Dean, if that was the case, his brother would do everything in his power to make sure Sam didn't get caught. And then he would do whatever it took to fix Sam.

Suddenly, it dawned on Sam. Meg's master plan. She knew what their father had told Dean and she was going to see who his brother was more loyal to – John or Sam. Honestly, Sam wanted to believe it was him, but he wasn't sure. _You thought that by killing another hunter, you could get to Dean to kill me? You'd make him think that I was turning into that thing my dad warned him about. And you thought he'd kill me before I could hurt anyone else?_

Those onyx eyes stared at Sam in the mirror once more. “Well, yeah, Sam. Whoever said Dean had the brains in this relationship was wrong. You're pretty smart yourself,” Meg complimented. “But I like my new plan better. I wanna see if Dean will spread his legs to make you happy.”

That malicious smirk was so out of place on Sam's mouth. He hated seeing it. _Please, don't do this._ Sam was begging – he knew that. And a part of him even knew that Meg wouldn't care. Hell, she was probably getting off on this. But Sam knew that there was no way Dean would kill him. And they could both survive that plan. The on Meg had cooking now? There was no guarantee either one of them would get out without injury. _Wouldn't it be better for you if I'm dead? If Dean killed me? Then you all would only have one Winchester to go after._

Shaking her head, Meg smiled again. “Oh please, Sam. Given the choice between a Winchester on our asses, don't you think we'd pick you? Dean hasn't run away from this life.” Running his own hand down Sam's body, Meg bit his lip. “Besides, don't you want Dean? I can get him for you. It'll be fun, Sam. I've always wondered where the line was for your brother. I mean, I know he'd kill for you. He _has_ killed for you. What else is he willing to do for you.”

The sound of boots falling onto the carpeted floor outside of the room drew Meg's attention to the door. Sitting up, she looked at Sam's appearance once more in the mirror. “Sorry, Sammy, but it's time for you to go back to sleep for a little while.”

**~~**

Dean had been losing his mind. He'd gone to sleep one night and when he woke up, Sam was gone. There had been no note, no nothing. And his brother wasn't answering his phone. It was like he'd just vanished. But then he'd gotten that call from the younger Winchester and it was like his world came flooding back. Sam was alive. And he was okay. And Dean was about to be back with him. 

“Sam, it's me,” he called out, knocking on the door. There was no answer, which had Dean's heart kicking up a notch again. “Sam!” Still, no answer. His hand was on the doorknob before his body even registered what he was doing. Relief flooded through him when the door opened. He'd yell at Sam for being so careless about locking the door later.

From where he was standing, Sam looked like he was in one piece. That was good. “Sam?” Dean asked, slowly moving toward the bed. Sam seemed like he was out of it. But at least he had all of his limbs and he was breathing. Anything else, they could deal with together. “Hey.” Slowly, Dean knelt down beside his brother, taking in as much as he could about the younger man's disposition.

It barely registered that Sam had spoken as Dean took in the blood all over Sam's clothes. “Are you bleeding?” Dean asked, panic clear in his voice although he was trying to hide it. Sam was probably freaked out enough – Dean didn't want to add to it. 

“I tried to wash it off,” Sam mumbled, one hand moving to Dean's shoulder to steady himself when the older man grabbed at his clothes. Meg couldn't help but smirk when Sam's body reacted to Dean being so close. Not that she could blame him – Dean was practically groping the younger Winchester. “It's not my blood.”

Hearing that it wasn't Sam's blood was a definite relief. “Whose is it?” Dean asked, pulling his hands away from Sam's clothes. 

Meg was trying hard to keep up the facade of Sam. But Dean knew him better than anyone. She was worried that he was going to see right through her. “Demons,” she spit out, knowing that if Dean wanted to fight something, this would give him something to hit. After all, Meg knew where they could find some demons to rustle up.

Shock didn't even begin to cover what Dean was feeling. Sam had been fighting demons while Dean was worried that he'd gone off and left him again? “Sam, what the hell happened?” Dean asked, demanding an explanation.

Finally, Sam's eyes met Dean's. It was clear to see that Dean was both scared and pissed off. He was basically waging a war inside his head. Meg liked that look. “I went out to get some air. I-I couldn't sleep. And they jumped me. They threw me into a van and drove me here. I fought them off, but I don't think I got them all. Dean, they're probably coming for me right now. We have to get out of here.”

If someone thought for one second they were going to take his brother away from him again, they had another thing coming. “Alright, Sam, just relax, okay?” Dean offered, pushing himself to his feet. “Look, why don't you get cleaned up and we can figure this out? I'll keep watch out here while you go take a shower, okay?”

For once, Sam didn't argue with Dean about the plan. It seemed off, but then again, so did Sam right now. Apparently getting jumped by demons had spooked him. While Sam showered, Dean went to the front and asked the manager if he'd seen anything weird in the last few hours. Of course, the skeevy little freak wasn't much help. Not that Dean had high hopes for that.

Once Sam was finished in the shower and in clean clothes, he and Dean were off. Sam suggested that they get into the next town before they found a hotel, and Dean was all for that. They needed to get some research in before they hit the sack. If there were demons after Sam, Dean wanted to know why. And he wanted to know who the hell they were so he could kick their asses for even thinking they were going to hurt Sam.

After crossing the city lines, Dean stopped for some grub before they got a room in the first motel they found. “Okay, so tell me what you remember, Sam,” Dean started, pulling up his brother's lap top so he could get to work. “Did they say anything to you? Maybe why they were after you? Or what they were going for?”

Rolling his eyes, Sam poked at the salad Dean had ordered him. “Yeah, Dean, they were real chatty,” he replied sarcastically. He could see that his words hadn't amused his brother. “No, okay? They didn't tell me anything. But...I heard them talking in the front seat. They thought I was unconscious. They were talking about...Azazel. And how I'm immune to the Croatoan curse.”

“Croatoan?” Dean asked, obviously confused. “Sam, that was months ago that we dealt with that.” Rolling his eyes, Dean bit into his burger. “Guess the demons are a little slow on the uptake. So what? They were taking you to this...Azazel? What for?”

Sam's only response was to shrug. “I don't know, Dean. Like I said, they didn't say anything to me. I think we should just finish up here, regroup, and go find them. We can't just let them out there to hurt other people. We need to send them back to Hell.”

**~~**

It didn't take much to find the demons and send them all back to Hell. Of course, Meg allowed a few of them to rough Sam up a little bit, but in the end, the Winchester's rang victorious. Dean had them back in their motel room before the sun was down. “You need to let me take a look at your wrist,” Dean ordered, dropping his bag on the floor beside his bed.

The way Dean doted on Sam was enough to make Meg gag. “Dean, I'm fine,” he argued, rolling his eyes. His voice was scratchy because one of the demons had been choking him before big brother stepped in and had saved the day.

Now, it was Dean's turn to roll his eyes. “Sam, you just got that cast off the other arm a couple weeks ago, okay? That demon threw you pretty damn hard. Just let me look at it.” Seeing that Sam was going to protest again, Dean grabbed him by the jacket and yanked him toward the bed. “Just shut up and let me see it,” Dean argued, not giving Sam a chance to say anything else about it.

Just like at the motel in Twin Lakes, almost as soon as Dean touched him, Sam's body responded. Dean was too busy checking to make sure everything was okay to realize what his touch was doing. But Meg wasn't going to waste this opportunity. Instead, she pulled Sam's hand away from Dean. “See? I'm fine. Just like I said,” she griped. “Those demons...they came after me because of what I am, Dean. Because I'm...evil.”

Concern quickly morphed into anger on Dean's face. “You're not evil, Sam,” he argued. “You're just...special.” Smirking, Dean slapped Sam on the shoulder. “But we've known that for a while now, haven't we, Sammy.”

Throwing jabs in an attempt to make light of the situation – that was apparently Dean's go-to when he got uncomfortable. “Dean, I'm serious,” Sam argued. “If you knew what went on in my head.” Scoffing, Sam ran his hand down his face, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and his index finger. “You'd run for the hills if you knew. These last few weeks, I've been having...I've been having these feelings.”

A deep frown marred Dean's features as he stared at his little brother. “What feelings?” he asked, eyes searching his little brother's face for answers.

“Lust. Want. And I can't stop it,” Sam answered. Hazel orbs locked on Dean as Sam continued, “It just gets worse. Day by day, it gets worse.”

It was clear when Dean's concern morphed into relief at Sam's words. “Oh, Sammy, come on, we can fix that. You just have to go to the right bar,” Dean assured his brother. “C'mon, I think we passed one a few miles back. We'll go get some drinks. We'll fix that problem of yours real quick.”

Of course Dean's answer was to get laid. But Meg wasn't going to make it that easy on Dean. This was her moment. Sam was all dewy-eyed and sad. There was no way Dean could resist him. “Dean, it's not that simple,” Sam argued, shaking his head. “Don't you think if it were that simple, I would have gone to a bar and picked up a chick?! It's all geared toward one person. A person I can _never_ have!”

At this particular moment, Meg allowed Sam to wake up. She wanted him to watch everything that unfolded from here on out. He scoffed again when Dean asked what he was talking about. “I think Dad knew. I think that's why he told you, if it ever came to this, you'd have to kill me.”

Again, anger bubbled inside Dean at Sam's words. John shouldn't have laid that on him. And he shouldn't have told Sam. Damn chick flick moments. “Shut up, Sam,” Dean warned. He didn't care that he'd promised both John and Sam that he'd kill him if he ever became something he wasn't. That wasn't happening. Sam was fine, dammit! And there was no way he was killing his little brother. For anything. “Listen to me. We can figure this out. Okay? Whatever it is, we can get through it. Just talk to me. Tell me what's wrong.”

Instead of speaking, Sam lunged forward, crushing his lips against Dean's as his fingers carded through the older man's hair. Sam used his grip on Dean's hair to pull the older Winchester closer, making sure he couldn't get away without using force.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean's mind was blank. He didn't know how to process this. His brother – his _brother_ – was kissing him right now. And Sam was giving him all he had, too. Sam's tongue was pushing past Dean's lips now, and still, he was frozen to the spot. He had no idea how to handle this. 

Finally, Dean managed to get his body to move. He shoved Sam off him, careful not to hurt the younger man, but hard enough to let Sam know he meant business. “What are you doing?” he asked, brows knit in confusion. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, face burning with shame when he tasted Sam there. 

A deep frown came to Sam's lips when Dean pushed him away. “I told you,” Sam replied, head hanging sadly as he turned toward the bed. “I want someone I can never have. And I don't know how much longer I can fight it, Dean.” Shaking his head, Sam scoffed. “Dad probably knew about them long before I did. You saw the way he looked at me sometimes. He'd rather have killed me than let me act on these...urges I have. That's why he told you to watch out for me.”

So many things were running through Dean's head right now. It was making it hard to focus. Surely, this couldn't have been what John was talking about when he said to watch out for Sam. There was no way John wanted him to _kill_ Sam over something like this. Maybe John thought it was evil – thought it was because Sam was _different_ – that's why he felt this way. Well, then what was Dean's excuse? Maybe Sam was the one who needed to watch out for Dean?

“Sammy, this isn't what Dad meant,” Dean assured his brother. “Dad meant if there was something with the demon that made you act different – if it turned you into something you're not. Then I am supposed to _take care of it._ ” Not that Dean could if that happened. Even if he wanted to – he knew he'd die before he let anything happen to Sam. 

Again, Sam scoffed. “How do you know what Dad meant?” Sam argued. “Did you ask questions when he whispered his dying wish to you? Did you guys sit around and talk strategy?!”

Anger started to make Dean's blood boil. “Don't be ridiculous, Sam!” Dean scolded. “You know we didn't do that! Just stop it! We can figure this out!”

From inside his mind, Sam had a clear view of what was happening before him, but he was powerless to do anything about it. Meg was having a field day with Dean, and Sam could do nothing but sit back and watch the show. 

There was no good way this could end. On the one hand, Dean turned Meg down, and she killed him. On the other hand, Dean did whatever Meg asked and Sam ultimately ended up watching his brother get raped. Either way, someone was going to get hurt. More than anything, Sam wished that Meg would just shove him back down wherever she kept him when she didn't want him to see what she was doing. But he knew that she was keeping him alert for a reason. The bitch wanted Sam to be aware of every move that his body made with Dean.

“Figure this out?” Sam asked, brows knit in disbelief. “Really, Dean? What is there to figure out? Huh?” Grabbing Dean's forearms, Sam pulled him closer, hazel orbs searching Dean's moss greens. “Dean, I _want_ you. And usually, I can keep it under control. I can keep these feelings pushed down wherever they belong, and I can hide them from you. I can hide them from myself.”

Slowly, Sam released Dean, one hand pushing his long bangs out of his eyes. “But lately, it's been getting harder,” he admitted, turning away from Dean. His eyes flashed black as a malicious grin spread across his lips before he managed to control his features once more. “I watch your every move, Dean. And I can tell myself it's just so I know you're safe. It's just because I want to make sure you're not hurt. But I know the real reason. It's because when I can't see you, I feel like my skin is crawling. I'm always...worried that you're out with some chick giving her what I want you to be giving me.”

Turning to face Dean once more, Sam chuckled humorlessly to himself. “And don't even get me started on the jealousy. On the constant thoughts about why I'm not good enough for you when you throw yourself at anything else that moves. I _know_ that it's because you're my brother. And brothers aren't supposed to feel like this toward each other, but Dean, I stopped caring about that when I lost Jessica.”

At the mention of Jessica, Dean's eyes snapped up to meet Sam's. Dean had hated her – and he'd felt like a piece of shit for it. But she'd had what he wanted – what he could never have. She had Sam. And Dean had pushed so hard to get Sam to go with him that night because more than anything – more than finding their Dad – Dean had just wanted Sam away from that woman. His brother had been in love with her. Dean could tell. There was a time when Sam had looked at him that same way. But that night, Sam only had eyes for Jessica. And in that moment, Dean hated her.

Before Dean could get a word in however, Sam continued, “I dream about you. Sometimes they're so intense, they wake me up at night. And I'll just lay there in my bed, listening to you sleep. _Wishing_ that I could be over there with you. It's sick. And I know that. But I can't help it, Dean. I've tried, and I can't!”

“Listen, Sammy, it's gonna be okay,” Dean assured his little brother. Although he felt the same way, there was absolutely no chance he was going to act on it. The last thing Sam needed was for Dean to corrupt him any further. Hell, the way Sam felt about him was probably Dean's fault as it was. When they were younger, Dean doted on the kid – hell, he still did. Maybe if he hadn't been so up in Sam's business all of the time, Sam wouldn't have developed these feelings. Maybe if he'd done things differently, Sam would have been married with a couple of rug rats by now.

But no, Dean had to come in a destroy every chance Sam had at being a normal guy. And now this is what he had done to his little brother. “We can deal with this. I mean, there's gotta be a way, right?”

Sam watched in horror as Meg walked toward their weapons duffel. “Yeah, there is,” Sam heard himself say. Reaching for the handgun, Sam pulled it from the duffel, turning his attention back to Dean. With tears in his eyes, Sam thrust the gun toward Dean. “I can't keep doing this. I don't want to hurt you.”

All of the color drained from Dean's face when Sam pushed a loaded gun in his direction. Sam was nuts if he thought Dean was using that thing. “You won't,” he argued, making no move to even acknowledge the pistol. “Whatever this is, you can fight it.”

With tears in his eyes, Sam promised, “No. I can't. Not forever.” Again, he pushed the gun toward Dean. “Here, you gotta do it.” When Dean still didn't take the gun, Meg almost smiled. Of course there was no way Dean-o was going to hurt little Sammy. But she had to make it believable. So, she grabbed Dean's right hand and placed the gun in his palm, wrapping his fingers around it.

Dean couldn't move. All he could do was stare at Sam. His whole body was shaking. “There has to be another way,” Dean argued, eyes glued to the weapon his brother was dead set on getting him to use. “I can't. I'd rather die.”

Another way – that's what Meg was banking on. “Dean, you know there's only two options here,” Sam explained. “This is what has to happen. I can't keep living like this! You'd be doing me a favor! You have to! I _won't_ keep doing this. So either kill me, or fuck me because this ends now!”

Without thinking, Dean threw the gun onto the bed. In one swift motion he was on Sam, fingers curled in the fabric of Sam's flannel over shirt as he yanked his brother down to meet his lips. They both groaned into the kiss as Dean shoved Sam backwards, the younger Winchester's back hitting the wall with a loud _thud_.

Once Sam was against the wall, Dean shoved at his over shirt, tossing it across the room once he got it off of his brother. Dean then all but ripped Sam's gray T-shirt over his head, breaking the kiss only long enough to get Sam's shirt out of the way. Skilled fingers then immediately went to work on Sam's jeans, popping the button and dragging down the zipper before Dean finally broke the kiss. “Get on the bed,” Dean ordered. “Now.”

As soon as Sam did as he was told, Dean hooked his thumbs into the waistband of Sam's jeans and boxers, pulling both articles of clothing off in one go. He all but growled when the fabric bunched around Sam's boots. Of course, Dean wasted no time getting those off Sam either. He then shoved against Sam's chest – _hard_ – forcing the younger man to lie on his back on the bed.

If he was going through with this, Dean was going to do it his way. He'd dreamed about this moment more times than he could even recall. And if it was happening, he wanted it to be memorable. Because this was _never_ happening again. Dean wasn't willing to stain his brother like this more than once.

Before Sam was even fully situated on the bed, Dean was out of all of his clothes. He was like a damn magician. A small gasp escaped Sam's lips when Dean climbed on top of him, one hand gripping Sam's hip tightly as he brought their cocks together, grinding against his little brother. “Oh God, Dean,” Sam moaned, head falling back in pleasure as his eyes slipped shut.

The rough treatment Dean was giving him had Sam's body reacting in a way no other person had ever made him feel. Meg could tell Sam was enjoying it, a wide smirk coming to her lips. “God, Dean, you're being so rough,” Sam breathed. “Ungh...I like it.”

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean ordered. If Sam was talking to him, it was going to make it harder for Dean to get through this. As much as he wanted this, he really didn't _want_ to do this. He'd spent the better part of ten years trying to keep Sam safe from this part of him. And now he had no choice but to expose it to his little brother. Dean was not happy about it. But he'd do it. And he'd enjoy it. And then they would _never_ talk about it again. 

Quickly, Dean reached for the top drawer in the end table beside the bed, pulling out the small bottle of lube there. One good thing about staying in skeezy motels was there was always lube there if you needed it. He popped the cap and drizzled a liberal amount onto his fingers. “Spread your legs,” he instructed, shouldering Sam's thighs apart.

Sam didn't protest as Dean maneuvered him into an accessible position, instead allowing his brother to take the lead. When Dean's finger breached him, Sam moaned softly, back arching off the bed. “Fuck,” he groaned, head falling to the side on the pillow. Dean added a second before Sam really had time to adjust to the first, causing Sam to hiss in a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Dean...” he breathed, one hand moving to grip his brother's shoulder.

When Sam said his name, Dean allowed his eyes to dart up to look at his brother. Sam looked like he was enjoying what Dean was doing, so he wasn't about to stop. “Shhh Sammy, s'okay,” Dean whispered. His head dipped to suck at Sam's exposed pulse point, adding a third finger when he felt Sam was prepared for it.

There was a war waging inside Sam's head right now. On the one hand, he felt terrible because Meg was using his body to rape Dean. But on the other hand, this felt amazing. It was a little uncomfortable, but Sam knew that feeling would pass. It always hurt a little bit when he would push his fingers into his body at first, too. And Dean's fingers were thicker than Sam's, so he'd known it would sting a bit going in. 

He was dragged out of his thoughts when Dean pulled his fingers away. “Are you ready, Sammy?” Dean breathed into his ear. Sam tried to scream at Dean that this wasn't him. That he was being possessed and although he wanted Dean like this, he didn't want it to happen this way. Sam wanted to be in control of his body if he was going to have Dean. Instead, Sam's eyes ticked down to Dean's crotch, watching his brother's hand glide over his hard shaft as Dean lubricated himself. His tongue darted out to wet his lips on it's own accord as Sam nodded. 

The few times that Sam had fingered himself during masturbation couldn't have prepared him for the pain that having sex with another man actually entailed. He thought that three fingers would have been enough to open him up for Dean’s cock, but he’d been wrong. His hands gripped at Dean’s shoulders, fingernails digging into the soft skin there as he breathed through the pain.

It was slow going, Dean stopping every few inches to make sure Sam was all right. He stopped once he was fully sheathed inside Sam, his arms shaking with the effort of keeping himself from moving. Dean could see the pain on Sam’s face and he noticed that Sam’s erection had dwindled marginally, and he was wondering if this had been such a good idea. But they were too far to quit now. Sam would be fine after a few minutes – his body would adjust and they could continue where they left off. 

Sure enough, after a few moments, Sam wiggled experimentally, breathing in a shocked gasp at the pleasure he felt now that he was used to the invasion. “Ungh…D-Dean, you can move now,” Sam explained, one hand moving to fist in Dean’s hair as he yanked him down into a heated kiss. 

Dean didn’t need to be told twice. He kept his movements slow and gentle as he pulled almost all the way out of Sam, sliding back in slowly, watching Sam’s reaction to his movements. Satisfied that Sam seemed to be enjoying himself, Dean repeated the action, moving just a bit faster – a little harder – this time. Again, Sam seemed to be fine with it, so Dean kept going until he was all but slamming his cock into Sam. 

And it felt good. It felt so fucking good. Sam was tight and he was gripping Dean’s cock just right on every thrust. Angling his hips, Dean smirked slightly when Sam gasped and then groaned in pleasure. The pure pleasure on Sam’s face let Dean know that he’d hit Sam’s sweet spot. So he did it again. And then again, one hand fisting in the sheets beneath Sam while the other fisted in Sam’s hair when Sam’s inner muscles clamped down on his dick just right. “Fuck, Sam,” he breathed, head dipping to nip and suck at Sam’s neck and shoulder.

Although his erection had dwindled down when Dean first pushed into him, Sam was fully erect once more, pre-cum leaking from the tip of his penis. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Dean hadn’t even touched his dick and Sam was going to blow his load. 

_Do you want to take the lead for a little while, Sam?_ the younger Winchester heard Meg ask him. _I can take a back seat and just watch the show. I know you've wanted this for so long. Why should I take all of the fun out of it? You can finally have your brother the way you want him. All I have to do is give up control. And as long as you behave, you can have the floor for a little while._

It was a tough decision. But Sam wanted it. He wanted to be the one to share this moment with Dean. Not Meg – Sam. _Do it,_ Sam answered. _I won't say anything. I'd rather have him experience this with the real me than you_.

Before she gave up control, Meg did one last thing. After all, she was demon. She wasn't just going to let Sam ride it out while Dean did all of the work. No – she wanted Sam to have to take the lead. If he wanted to experience this with Dean, then he was going to have to make it worth her while. Quickly, Sam shoved Dean off him, crawling on top of the older Winchester and pinning him to the bed. “I wanna be on top,” he whispered softly before Meg gave up control.

Once he had Dean underneath him, Sam leaned down, crushing his lips to Dean’s, tongue pressing against the seam of his lips and demanding entrance, which he was soon granted. He pulled back soon after, pushing up off Dean’s chest and turning at the waist, hand gripping the base of his lover’s shaft before slowly lowering himself down onto him. Soft moans and groans broke from Sam’s throat as he sheathed Dean inside himself, not stopping until Dean was buried to the hilt. Once he had Dean all the way inside him, both of his hands came down to rest against Dean’s chest as his head fell forward, hair flopping down to cover his face.

It felt so good to be with Sam like this, which kind of surprised him since he wasn’t one to ever give up control. But, as with most things in his life since he’d realized his feelings for his brother went deeper than he could possibly imagine, there was something about Sam that just made Dean give in to his every request. Probably because he knew that it would be good as long as Sam was in the equation.

When Sam had him buried to the hilt, Dean moaned as his head pressed back against the bed once more, watching his brother from beneath heavy lidded eyes. God, if he thought Sam was hot before, seeing him with his hair all in his face just made him so much hotter; it was taking all Dean had not to thrust up into Sam before the younger man was ready. If he moved now, Sam would fall off because he wasn't steady enough. And that wouldn't have been a picnic for either one of them.

Feeling Dean’s hands on him, Sam opened his eyes to mere passion-glazed slits. He wanted to tell Dean that Meg was possessing him. He wanted to stop this whole thing right now before it went any further. But he didn't. Instead, Sam took the selfish route and just let Dean give him whatever he wanted. Dean was always giving Sam whatever he wanted. Slowly, he gave an experimental thrust backward, moaning when Dean’s cock hit his prostate. He was definitely ready now.

Sam pressed down against Dean’s chest, making sure not to fall off Dean in this unfamiliar position as he used his knees to push off the bed, raising himself almost completely off Dean’s dick before he slid back down.

Moans and groans filled the room as Sam continued to ride Dean. There was no way he was going to last much longer, having been achingly hard since Dean started touching him. And he was setting the pace just right, for both of them if Dean’s moaning was any indication, and Dean’s cock was hitting his prostate with every thrust. No, Sam was _definitely_ not going to last much longer at this rate. “D-Dean,” he gasped, fingers curling around his brother's nipples, short blunt nails digging into the flesh. “I’m close.”

The way Sam’s inner muscles were clenching around his achingly hard flesh let Dean know it wasn’t going to be long before he was cumming inside his brother. His hands on Sam’s hips tightened their grip a little as he moaned in pleasure, his head once again pressing into the back of the mattress. “Yeah, me too Sammy,” he assured Sam, nodding slightly. “Do it. Cum for me, Sam.” One hand moved to grip the base of Sam’s shaft and began to slide along his brother's length, using the pre-cum oozing from Sam’s slit to help slick the way.

Once Dean told him to cum and his hand soon followed, Sam was gone. There was nothing he could have done to stop himself from cumming at that moment, even if he knew it would have caused the world to end. His back arched, body tensing and his nipples pebbling as he felt heat pool low in his belly, balls drawing up close to his body before the first ribbon of cum shot from his cock, wetting Dean’s hand.

As Sam came, his inner muscles clenched even tighter around Dean’s sensitive cock sheathed inside him and Dean was gone, giving a shout of pleasure as he came inside his brother. Moans of satisfaction spilled from both their throats as they rode out the waves of their pleasure.

Sam was panting out his breaths and he could feel Dean’s cum dripping out of him and wetting his thighs, but he didn’t care. Right now he was completely sated and ready for a good long nap. Unfortunately, Meg had other plans. She chose that moment to take Sam's control back. “Oh Dean,” he cooed, sliding off his brother's lap. “You stupid sonuvabitch.”

When Sam spoke, Dean frowned in confusion. His head turned on the pillow to look at his brother, but what was staring back at him had Dean rolling off the bed. Black eyes bored holes into Dean, the older Winchester's heart kicking up a few notches. Before he had a chance to react, Sam threw his hand out, sending Dean flying into the wall.


	3. Chapter 3

“Who are you?” Dean demanded, struggling against the invisible hold Sam had on him. It was no use, though. This demon that was possessing his brother had him against this wall nice and tight. And it didn't look like he was going to let him go any time soon.

Shrugging, Meg answered, “I got lots of names.” Of course, Sam and Dean only knew her as Meg. And she wasn't about to give them any other details about her life.

Dean felt sick. Not only had he given into his own desires and taken what he'd wanted from Sam for so long, but he'd done it against Sam's will. His brother was _possessed_ and Dean hadn't even been able to realize it before he'd violated Sam's body. “You've been in Sam since he disappeared, haven't you?” Dean asked, all of the pieces finally connecting.

A wide smile came to Sam's lips as he pulled on his jeans. “You shoulda seen your face when I kissed you,” he chuckled. “Pathetic.”

As Sam continued to get dressed, Dean tugged at the invisible hold again, his blood boiling. He knew he was pathetic. He didn't need a demon telling him about it. “Why didn't you kill me?” he finally asked. Every demon that was topside wanted a piece of the Winchesters from Dean's knowledge. “You had a dozen chances.”

Sam pulled his T-shirt over his head before he shrugged into his over shirt, shaking his head at Dean. “Nah, that would have been too easy,” he explained. “Where's the fun in that? You see, this was a test. Wanted to see if I could push you far enough to fuck Sam. And wouldn't you know it? You jumped right into the sack with baby brother. I should have known it wouldn't be too hard. You'd do anything to make sure little Sammy stays with you.”

Slowly, Sam moved closer to Dean, biting into his bottom lip as he ran his fingers down Dean's bare chest. “You know, Sam's in here with me. He got to experience the _whole_ thing.” Another malicious smile came to Sam's lips before he shrugged. “Anyway. Fun's over now.”

Again, Dean had to fight the urge to vomit. “Well, I hope you got your kicks,” he sneered. “'Cause you're gonna pay hell for this. I'm gonna make sure of that.” It wasn't a threat – that was a promise.

“How?” Sam asked. “You can't hurt me. Not without hurting your little brother.” Moving toward the bed, he plopped onto the mattress and started putting his shoes back on. “See, I think you're gonna die, Dean. You and every other hunter I can find. One look at Sam's dewy, sensitive eyes? They'll let me right in their door.”

As he watched Sam pull his shoes on, Dean's brain was working a mile a minute. “So what now?” he asked, trying to keep the demon distracted while he thought of a plan. “You're going to finally kill me? And then go after other hunters? Smart plan.”

Boots back in place, Sam pushed himself off the bed. “Oh, I'm not going to kill you. _Yet_. I want you to live with the fact that you violated your brother for a little while longer, Dean. Plus, I have another present for you.”

Once Sam was close enough, he leaned in toward Dean, whispering in his brother's ear. “You see, my daddy may have taken your daddy from you, but there's still one other person you care about almost as much as little Sammy.” Pulling back, Sam smiled at Dean. “I'm going to take your surrogate daddy away from you. Then, I'll kill my meat suit so you can watch. Then, and only then, when you're broken and alone, I'll finally kill you, Dean.”

Before Dean had a chance to react, Sam flung his arm again, sending Dean flying into the opposite wall. His head cracked against the headboard of the bed, knocking him unconscious. That same malicious smile that didn't belong on Sam's face came back as he headed out the door.

**~~**

Sam walked slowly up the steps toward the front door, his knuckles wrapping on the hard wooden surface once he was close enough. It didn't take long before the door opened, revealing a haggard looking familiar face.

“Sam!” Bobby Singer grinned, a small chuckle escaping him. Sam's teeth bared in a smile as he greeted the older hunter. “It's been a while.” Sam grinned sheepishly. “Well, come on in.”

Slowly, Sam entered the house, glancing at the ceiling. Bobby closed the door behind him. They walked into the study together, Sam taking in the dim lighting and the stacks of books and papers scattered all over the room. Just like Meg remembered it from her last visit here.

“So, what brings you here?” Bobby asked.

“Working a job nearby, and thought I'd stop in and say hey,” Sam easily lied.

“Well, where's Dean?” Bobby responded, glancing around the room as if he was looking for the older Winchester.

Laughing softly, Sam answered, “Holed up somewhere with a girl and a twelve pack.” Sounded like his brother, that was for sure. Sam watched as Bobby walked into the back room, leaving him alone in the study. He heard the older hunter ask if she was pretty, but Sam wasn't paying much attention. His eyes clouded over black as he searched for the Devil's Trap he knew had to be in this room somewhere. Bobby Singer had gotten him last time with one of those things, and he wasn't going to let it happen again. “You ask me, he's in way over his head.”

After a moment, Bobby returned with a beer in each hand. He handed one to Sam, which the younger Winchester gladly took. “Well, it's good to see you,” Bobby smiled. He raised his bottle. “To John.”

Another smile came to Sam's lips as he lifted his bottle as well. “To Dad,” he agreed. They each took a swig of their beer after the toast, Sam turning his attention to the ceiling once more. As he swallowed the beer, he felt like fire was shooting through his esophagus and into his gut. Quickly, he spewed whatever was left in his mouth, choking. Sam fell to his hands and knees, coughing and gagging painfully. 

Meanwhile, Bobby watched the younger hunter's reaction. He continued to sip on his beer, unconcerned as Sam turned his angry gaze toward him, demanding to know what he'd done. “A little holy water in the beer,” he explained calmly. “Sam never would have noticed. But then, you're not Sam, are you. Don't try to con a con man.”

Without another word, Bobby slammed his fist into Sam's face, watching as the younger hunter fell to the floor in a heap, unconscious.

**~~**

“Hey,” Dean called, smacking Sam in the face to wake the sleeping Winchester. His brother was tied to a chair, sitting under a Devil's Trap so the demon inside of him couldn't go anywhere.

Slowly, Sam stirred. He realized immediately that he was tied up, and he would have bet his life that there was a Devil's Trap above him. He didn't waste any time, turning his attention to the ceiling just to verify that he'd been right. Bingo. Sam noticed that Dean had glanced at the painting as well. This was really getting old. “Dean,” Sam greeted. “You know, if you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask. Kinda kinky, isn't it?”

Dean was in no mood to play games. “How about I smack that smartass right out of your mouth?” Dean suggested instead, his blood boiling that this demon had the audacity to bring up their little adventure from earlier that night.

Again, that damn smile that was so out of place on his brother's face came into view. “Oh, careful, now,” Sam warned. “Wouldn't want to bruise this fine packaging.”

The last thing Dean was worried about right now was hurting Sam. “Oh don't worry, this isn't gonna hurt Sam much,” he assured the demon. He turned to pick up a bucket before setting his eyes on the demon once more. “You, on the other hand...” 

His words trailed off before he tossed the contents of the bucket onto Sam. As soon as the holy water hit him, his body started to sizzle, eliciting a roar from Sam's throat. “Feel like talking now?” Dean asked, allowing the bucket to fall out of his hands.

Anger bubbled inside the demon as Sam's skin smoked from the holy water. “Sam's still my meat puppet,” he reminded Dean. “I'll make him bite off his tongue.”

When the demon threatened Sam, Dean knew he didn't have time to get answers. That thing needed to be exorcised from his brother _now_. “No, you won't be in him long enough,” Dean promised. His eyes ticked up toward the older hunter in the room. “Bobby.”

As Bobby started reciting the exorcism, Dean spoke over him. He needed to make it clear that he wasn't messing around. “See, whatever bitch-boy master plan you demons are cooking up?” Dean started, moving in circles around his brother. “You're not getting Sam. You understand me?” He leaned against the chair when he was face-to-face with Sam again, eyes locked on his brother's. “'Cause I'm gonna kill every one of you first.”

Pain flared through Meg as Bobby recited the exorcism. She knew it wouldn't work because of the binding spell she'd performed, but it still hurt like a bitch. “You really think that's what this is about?” Meg demanded. “The master plan? I don't give a rat's ass about the master plan.”

The pain finally subsided, letting Meg know she could make her move now. “Oops,” she smiled. “Doesn't seem to be working. See, I learned a few new tricks.” Lowering Sam's head, Meg began to growl in Latin.

Almost as soon as Sam started chanting, the fire behind him flared and the room started to shake. “This isn't going like I pictured!” Dean yelled over the roaring of the room as Sam continued to chant. “What's going on, Bobby?”

It didn't take long for Bobby to see the burn mark on Sam's forearm. He'd seen it before. And it sure as hell wasn't good. “It's a binding link!” he called over the noise, drawing Dean's attention to the mark. “It's like a lock! He's locked himself inside Sam's body!”

Not three hours before this, Dean had seen Sam in all his naked glory. And not once did he notice that there was a mark burned into his baby brother's skin. Silently beating himself up over his own stupidity, Dean grumped, “What the hell do we do?”

“I don't know!” Bobby answered, completely at a loss.

The chanting finally stopped as Sam threw his head back, a scream tearing from his throat once more. The shaking walls and ceilings began to crack, breaking the Devil's Trap that was painted there. Sam's eyes were jet black as he lowered his head. “There. That's better,” he smiled smugly. He jerked his head to the left, sending Bobby flying. He then jerked his head to the right, sending Dean hurtling into the far wall. 

When Dean connected with the wall, the flask of holy water he'd been holding fell out of his hands. Sam ripped free of the restraints and stalked toward his brother. “You know when people want to describe the worst possible thing?” Sam started, finally reaching his brother. “They say it's like Hell.” Kneeling in front of Dean, Sam fisted his left hand in Dean's shirt before he clocked him with a hard right jab. Dean's hand shot out to grab Sam's shirt with his right hand.

“You know there's a reason for that,” Sam continued. “Hell is like, um...” Again, he hit Dean. “Well, it's like Hell. Even for demons.” Again, he threw a punch. Dean was groggy and bleeding heavily from the nose. Meg liked this look on the older Winchester. “It's a prison. Made of bone and flesh and blood and fear.” Another punch landed to Dean's face before Sam grabbed his head, holding him steady. “And you sent me back there.”

Finally, it clicked. Dean knew _exactly_ who had hitched a ride in his brother's body. “Meg,” he sneered.

Smiling, Meg answered, “No. Not anymore. Now, I'm Sam.” He hit Dean one last time before he moved to grip Dean's shoulder, pulling him just a bit closer. “By the way, I saw your Dad there. He says 'howdy'.” Dean's hand came up to grip Sam's wrist, trying to shove Sam off of him. “All I had to hold onto was that I would climb out one day, and that I was going to torture you. Nice and slow. Like pulling the wings off an insect.”

Roughly, Sam shoved Dean's grasping hand away from him. “But whatever I do to you, it's nothing compared to what you do to yourself, is it? I can see it in your eyes, Dean. You're worthless. You couldn't save your Dad, and deep down...you know that you can't save your brother. Especially not after what you did to him in that motel bed. They'd have been better off without you.”

Just as Sam pulled his arm back to hit Dean again, Bobby was there. The older hunter grabbed Sam's wrist, holding him steady as he pressed a hot poker to the mark on Sam's arm. Sam screamed in pain before black demon smoke came billowing out of him, disappearing up the chimney. Dean pulled himself painfully into a seated position as he watched Sam's body fall to the floor. It didn't take long for Sam to come to himself, scrabbling and looking around the room in confusion.

As if everything was just coming back to him, Sam grabbed his arm in sudden pain. Dean watched cautiously from his place by the fireplace. “Sammy?” he asked, eyes watching his brother cautiously. Once he had confirmation that his brother was actually himself, Dean could breathe again. And he realized just how pissed he was that Sam had allowed himself to get possessed in the first place. Without thinking, Dean pulled his arm back, letting it fly to connect with Sam's cheek. He then rolled his eyes and collapsed onto the floor under him.

He didn't miss the way Sam grabbed his cheek in confusion. There was a chance that maybe Sam hadn't been awake for the violation. He prayed that Sam didn't know anything about it.

**~~**

Sam sat behind Bobby's table with an icepack on his arm, unable to keep his eyes from drifting to Dean who was on the other side of the table groggily holding a bag of ice on his face. Dean looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a brick wall and lost. Sam felt horrible that he had been the one to make Dean's face look like that. Even if it hadn't been _him_ necessarily, Sam still felt responsible.

He had no idea what to say to his brother. After what happened between the two of them while he'd been possessed? There were just no words. Of course, Sam needed to let Dean know that he had been present the whole time – that he had _participated_ instead of warned Dean that he was possessed. 

However, before he could say anything, Bobby walked into the room, a look of concern on the old hunter's face. “What is it, Bobby?” Sam asked, finally pulling his attention away from Dean.

“You boys ever hear of a hunter named Steve Wandell?” Bobby asked, eyes locked on Sam. The younger hunter got twitchy at the name, giving Bobby the answer he was looking for. From Dean's reaction though, Bobby could tell he had no idea what had happened. “Just heard from a friend. Wandell's dead. Murdered in his own house.” Sam swallowed and looked down. “You wouldn't know anything about that.”

It was clear on Sam's face that the kid was going to blab to Dean about what happened, but Bobby cut him off before he could. There was no need for Dean to know what heinous acts the demon had done using Sam's meat. “Good. Keep it that way,” he ordered, eyes locked on Sam. “Wandell's buddies are looking for someone or something to string up, and they're not going to slow down to listen to reason. You understand what I'm saying?”

Although Dean had absolutely no idea what Bobby was saying, he didn't want to get into it right now. He had bigger things to worry about than some dead hunter they'd never met. He needed to know what Sam remembered. “We better hit the road,” he suggested to his brother, pushing himself out of his chair. “If, uh, you can remember where we parked the car.”

Before Dean could get out of the room, Bobby stopped them. “Here. Take these,” he offered, handing each brother a small metal charm. When Sam asked what they were, Bobby explained, “Charms. They'll fend off possession. That demon's still out there. This'll stop it from getting back up in ya.”

As usual, Dean couldn't keep his mind from going to the gutter. “That sounds vaguely dirty, but uh, thanks,” he smiled. 

“You're welcome,” Bobby replied. “You boys be careful now.”

Sam couldn't help the blush that came to his cheeks at Dean's remark. “You too,” he replied to Bobby, trying to keep his mind off of anything getting back up in him. _Especially_ Dean. He smiled at Bobby, but the older hunter just looked back at him seriously, not returning the smile. At the door, Dean tossed the bag of ice back to Bobby. The older hunter did smile a little at Dean.

**~~**

The atmosphere in the car was like static electricity. Dean didn't like it. Sam hadn't said a word to him since they left Sioux Falls, and he hated it. Instead, Sam was sitting over there in the passenger seat with a sour puss look on his face. That same damn sucking on a lemon look Sam got when something was eating away at him. “You okay?” Dean finally asked. “Sam? Is that you in there?”

There was really no easy way to say this – Sam knew that. So he just blurted it out. “I was awake for some of it, Dean. I watched as I forced myself on you. Heard myself give you that ultimatum. And you just did what I told you to do. You didn't even think about shooting me, did you?”

And here it was. _The talk._ “It was the right move, Sam,” Dean assured him. “It wasn't you.” But it had been Dean who forced himself on Sam's unwilling body. He didn't have a demon to blame.

Scoffing, Sam answered, “Yeah, this time. What about next time?”

Next time? If there was a next time, Dean would handle it the exact same way he'd handled it this time, Only he hoped that it was actually Sam if it happened again – not a demon. “Sam, when Dad told me...that I might have to kill you, it was only if I couldn't save you,” Dean explained. “Now, if it's the last thing I do I'm gonna save you.”

“I raped you,” Sam reminded, feeling tears well up behind his eyes. He heard Dean sigh his name, and Sam knew that he was going to blame Meg. But it hadn't been Meg. “She let me wake up and take the wheel, Dean. When she climbed on top of you, she let me take control. And instead of telling you that I was possessed, I just...I took what I wanted. What I knew I could _never_ have again. _I raped you_. It wasn't the demon. Not the whole time.”

When Sam explained that he had been awake for some of it, Dean couldn't help but feel relieved. If what Sam was saying was true, that meant that he wanted Dean the same way Dean wanted him. But he couldn't let Sam think he'd been raped. “Sam, you didn't rape me. I made a choice. I did what I wanted to do. If I hadn't wanted it, then I wouldn't have done it.”

Again, Sam scoffed. His brother was always trying to make him feel better. But Sam wasn't going to let this slide. He knew there was no way Dean wanted him like Sam wanted Dean. “You're a fucking liar,” he accused. “Don't try to make me feel better by lying to me. It won't work.”

He didn't give Dean a chance to answer before he turned the music up. His attention was on the road flying by outside once again. Sam refused to look at Dean, instead continuing their drive in silence.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been weeks since Sam had been possessed, and the younger Winchester was driving Dean crazy. Sam wouldn't listen to him. No matter how many times Dean would tell him that you can't rape the willing, Sam wouldn't listen. It was really getting old. And now it was affecting their work, too.

Tonight, they'd been on a routine hunt. It was a simple salt and burn. Or at least it was supposed to be. But somehow, the ghost had gotten the drop on Sam, and when Dean had tried to check him out, Sam all but jumped out of his skin. It was like Sam didn't trust him anymore, and that was going to get them both killed. Thankfully, they'd managed to take care of the ghost without any major hiccups, but that wasn't the point.

This stopped tonight.

Back at the motel, Dean slammed the door to make sure that Sam knew he was pissed. As if the silent treatment in the car hadn't already let Sam know. But now there was no mistaking it. Dean could handle the way Sam would always make sure he didn't get too close in the motel room. And he could handle how Sam always took his clothes into the bathroom with him when he showered now. But not trusting him on a hunt? _That_ was something Dean couldn't handle.

“What the hell was that back there, Sam?” Dean asked, watching as his brother gathered up his clothes.

Sam wouldn't even look at Dean. He didn't see the problem. They'd taken care of the spirit and neither one of them had been hurt. Sure, Sam hadn't let Dean get close enough to check him over, but that wasn't a big deal. “Dean, I don't know what you're talking about,” Sam argued, grabbing a pair of boxers and adding it to the pile of clothes in his arms. “It's fine. I'm fine. We're fine. I just want to take a shower and relax.”

They weren't fine. They were so far from fine, Dean wasn't even sure he remembered what it was like to be _fine_. “Oh, we're fine, huh?” he asked, sarcasm dripping off him. “If we're so fine, then why do you keep bolting away from me? If we're so fine, then why are you still acting so damn weird about everything, Sam?!” 

The last thing Sam wanted to do right now was have this conversation. He was tired. He was sore. And he was not in the mood. Honestly, Sam thought he was getting better. He'd let Dean get closer to him little by little over the last few weeks, and the other day, they'd even brushed shoulders without Sam freaking out. He was _trying_. Raping your brother left scars, which Dean obviously didn't realize. “Dean...” he started, letting out a sigh.

Anger started to bubble inside Dean as he watched Sam fidget. “Don't do that,” he ordered. “Don't stand over there and tell me everything is okay when it clearly isn't.” Taking a step closer to Sam, Dean didn't miss the way the younger Winchester's hazel orbs followed his every move. “Sammy, come on man, you need to talk to me. You need to tell me how to fix it.”

Fix it? There was no fixing this. “Dean, we can't,” Sam whispered, feeling tears well up behind his eyes once more. “We can't fix it. I _raped_ you. How can we fix something like that?” Holding his clothes closer to his chest, Sam continued, “I just...I need some time to get over this, Dean. It's just gonna take a little bit of time.”

Honestly, Sam was really starting to irritate Dean with this story. “You didn't _rape_ me, Sam!” he reminded. If he had to say it again, he was going to lose his shit. And the worst part was that Sam didn't even listen when he spoke! So really, what was the point in saying anything at all?! “If anything Sam, _I_ raped you. Did you ever think of it that way? Huh?”

At Dean's words, Sam's eyes snapped up from the floor to lock with his brother's. “No, you didn't!” Sam argued, hurt that Dean would even say something like that. “I wanted it. I was there the whole time. I had a chance to stop you, and I didn't. She _knew_ I wouldn't. Her original plan was to see how far she could push you, try to get you to kill me, and then kill you, but when she realized how I felt, she changed her mind. You didn't do _anything_ to me that I didn't want, Dean!”

“Yeah, well neither did you, Sam!” Dean shot back. “I didn't just decide on the spot that I wanted to fuck my little brother, okay?! I've had those thoughts for _years_! You just gave the ultimatum and I finally acted on it! But you didn't fucking rape me, okay?! Sooner or later, the truth was going to come out! Was it ideal that a _demon_ made us finally admit what we wanted to happen between us? No, it wasn't! But that's how it happened! So you need to stop, Sam! Just...get over it, dammit!”

Now, it was Sam's turn to get angry. “Get over it?” he repeated. “Dean, she made me do things I _never_ would have done! I never would have put you in that position! And for all I know, you're just telling me this shit because you want me to _get over it_! Well, I can't Dean!”

Without thinking, Dean closed the gap between the two of them. His arm shot out to grip Sam's shirt as he pushed his brother against the wall. “You think I'm lying?” Dean asked, not caring that Sam's clothes had fallen to the floor and he was now stepping on Sam's clean jeans. “I'm not lying. I can show you.” With that, Dean surged forward, crushing his lips against Sam's mouth.

Slowly, Dean pulled back, smiling at the concerned look on Sam’s face. “Don’t look so scared, Sammy,” he teased with a small smirk. “You look like you just got dumped at prom, or something.” Again, he pressed a small kiss to Sam’s lips, his smirk widening when Sam groaned in annoyance because Dean wouldn’t let him deepen the kiss. “We gotta talk – you know that. But…I’d rather wait for the speech. I mean, all we really need to know is that I want to be with you and you want to be with me, right? The rest of it can wait until after. I really just want to push you on to this mattress and take you right now.”

Sam’s eyes widened when Dean boldly told him that he wanted to have sex right now. Sure, that was taking things a little quickly, but it wasn’t like he and Dean hadn’t done this before. Sure, he'd been possessed by a demon, and he thought he'd been raping his brother at the time, but it had still happened. So yeah, Sam had no problem with that plan. “Yeah, we can definitely have that talk later,” he assured Dean, his hands already moving to unbutton Dean’s jeans.

As Sam unbuttoned his pants, Dean watched, mesmerized by the way the younger Winchester's long fingers worked to open his jeans. It was hot, Sam’s fingers slipping the button from its slot in the denim in a frenzied rush to get to Dean’s skin. Once Sam had the button undone, he quickly pulled down the zipper. Dean's head fell back in ecstasy when Sam's hand shoved down the front of his jeans and boxers, wrapping around Dean's hard member. In an attempt to hide the embarrassing moan that escaped him, Dean crushed his lips against Sam’s once more.

He would kiss Sam all day if he was able to. But he knew that it wasn’t an option because if it was, no one would ever get anything done. The ghosts wouldn't get hunted, and the demons wouldn't get exorcised, and people would die. Then again, right now, Dean couldn't remember why that was his concern. And if Sam was for kissing Dean all night, then he would definitely do it. Of course, that would really put a damper on the whole sex thing, so he was willing to hold off on the all night make-out session.

Dean's hands moved to push and pull at Sam's clothes, getting his brother out of all that pesky fabric in record time. He then shoved Sam onto the bed, stripping himself out of his clothes before he joined Sam on the bed. Before his brother could protest, Dean blanketed Sam's body with his own, kissing him wherever he could get his lips.

Hot breath fanned over his ear, letting Sam know where Dean was. A tongue pressed to his ear, licking up and down the shell, more hot breath tickling his ear and the back of his neck. He gasped as his earlobe was sucked into his brother's mouth, teeth nibbling softly as that same tongue helped to suck on his lobe. Again, his breath hitched in his chest as his head instinctively turned to the side, giving Dean better access to his ear and neck, a small gasp escaping him.

He was panting out his breaths as lips began to torture him, trailing kisses down his neck and to his collarbone, sucking the flesh inside that hot mouth. "Ungh…D-Dean," Sam gasped, clenching his teeth together as he stifled the moan that threatened to tear from his throat. Again, he felt the hot breath fanning over his throat as his brother panted out breaths between heated kisses to his neck, throat and collarbone.

He gasped softly as he felt Dean’s hands slide over his body, causing shivers to ripple through him. Slightly calloused hands roamed over his chest, fingertips brushing lightly along his toned, well-muscled torso.

A low groan broke out of him as the man above him latched onto his nipple. And to his surprise, he found himself arching into Dean's mouth, his now semi-hard cock aching for his lover's touch. Usually, he hated it when lovers played with his nipples because he was sensitive and people tended to get a little rough and make him sore for days. But this felt nice.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down, he sank down, pushing himself as far away from Dean as he could. "Don’t stop," he breathed, his chest rising and falling with each panted breath. "Please, I-I need you." The fact that Dean wasn’t stopping and he seemed to be just as into this as Sam made the younger man's heart swell. It caused a small niggling speck of hope that Dean wasn’t lying about actually wanting to be with him to shine through just a bit more.

He squeezed his eyes closed as he felt those familiar hands wrap around his weeping cock, pumping him slowly. Hot breath fanned over his lips as he heard his brother speak. "Shhh…m’not stopping, Sammy. Just relax and let me take care of this for you," Dean whispered, softly pressing his lips to Sam’s. He didn't allow the kiss to last long, just a mere light touch before he pulled away, licking his lips as he moaned softly, his wrist pivoting as he continued to stroke Sam.

"Dean!” Sam groaned, panting as he was overwhelmed by the sweet sensation of having Dean's hand on his aching cock. Now that he thought there was hope for them, he had no problem enjoying every minute of this. "God, D'n," he moaned, bucking his hips so he could shove his dick into Dean’s fist harder, fucking his brother's fisted hand as hard and fast as he wanted to.

Dean moved his free hand to wrap around Sam’s back, slowly trailing down to his brother's ass. His lips met Sam’s again as he reached his destination, long digits groping and kneading the muscular flesh of Sam’s ass. "Mmmm...Sammy," he moaned, pulling back and flicking his tongue along the seam of Sam’s lips.

"You're so hot like this, Sam," he whispered, dipping his head so that he could kiss Sam’s neck again. He then kissed Sam’s collarbone, sucking on his flesh softly. As he worked Sam's body with his tongue and lips, Dean gently opened the younger man's hole with his fingers, starting with just one before he gradually added more, making sure to be careful so that he didn't hurt his little brother.

Once he knew Sam was ready, Dean couldn't wait any longer, kissing Sam's lips once more as he whispered, "Wanna be inside you, Sammy. Right now." Before Sam could say anything, Dean flipped them, lowering his brother down onto his erect cock, stopping only when he was buried to the hilt inside Sam. He made sure to give Sam a few moments to adjust before he began to move, fucking his brother slowly at first before picking up the tempo a bit, allowing Sam to set the pace for the most part.

Dean moaned as his cock pushed inside Sam's tight hole. "Ungh....Sam, God, you feel so good, Sammy," he breathed, barely able to get the sentence out due to his moaning and gasping.

Sam didn't reply to Dean's comment, too occupied with what he was already doing. He pushed up off the bed, almost pulling completely off Dean before he slammed back down, thrusting his ass back and forth, setting a brutal pace. It wasn't long before Sam was cumming, hard and hot, his jism shooting out of his cock and splashing onto the bed sheets.

Feeling Sam’s orgasm ripping through him, causing Sam’s inner muscles to clench around him dragged Dean over the edge as well. One hand on Sam's hip, the other on his shoulder, Dean rolled so that he was on top of Sam, the older man moaning Sam’s name as he pumped his cock into Sam’s tight channel, working his way through his orgasm. As he rolled off the younger man, falling onto his back beside Sam, his breaths panting out of him, Dean honestly couldn’t remember a time when he had cum so hard. 

Another smile came to Dean’s lips when Sam rolled onto his side and cuddled up next to him, Sam’s head resting over Dean’s heart as he closed his eyes. Without thinking about it, Dean ran his fingers through Sam’s sweat-damp hair, smiling softly down at the younger Winchester. This was what he wanted every day to be like. He wanted to fall asleep with Sam in his arms, completely blissed out after making love. And he knew that he could have it as long as he played his cards right. 

“Still think I'm lying?” Dean chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of Sam's head. Normally, he wasn't one to cuddle and press kisses against skin, but with Sam, he was actually shocked by what he was willing to do. Sam liked cute little gestures like that, and Dean was willing to give them to him. 

Sighing, Sam cuddled up closer to his brother, a small smile on his lips when Dean kissed his head. “No,” he answered honestly, one finger tracing the hard lines of the tattoo on Dean's chest. His own tingled where it was permanently inked on his pectoral as well. “I just...wish that our first time didn't have to be when a demon was inside me.”

Dean knew the feeling. But that was behind them now. They needed to focus on the present, not the past. Sure, Sam being possessed hadn't been a walk in the park, but it did get them here in this bed right now. Sam being possessed had given Dean the best sex he could ever remember having in all of his twenty seven years. Even if they'd had to deal with Meg to get here. Still, Dean couldn't help but see the humor in the situation now.

A small chuckle escaped him, which had a frowning Sam glaring up at him. “What?” Sam asked, not sure what the hell could be so funny at a time like this.

Shaking his head, Dean answered, “Nothing.” He knew Sam probably wouldn't see the humor in this situation. Not yet, anyway.

“Dean, what?” Sam asked again. Honestly, he was feeling a little bit hurt. If Dean was laughing at him right after they'd had sex, there had to be a reason. And Sam knew that he wasn't as experienced in the bedroom as his older brother. Maybe he hadn't been good.

It was clear that Sam was getting antsy. And Dean could only imagine what was running through that gigantor head of his brother's. So, he decided to enlighten Sam on what he was thinking. “Dude, you,” he started, composing himself once more before he continued, “you, like full-on had a girl inside you for like a whole week.” He laughed again when Sam's frown cracked and the younger Winchester started laughing with him. “That's pretty naughty.”

Slowly, Sam rolled on top of Dean once more. His hands found their way into Dean's, lacing their fingers together as he held his brother down against the mattress. “How about I show you just how naughty I can be, Dean?” he suggested, his eyes dancing playfully. He was already getting hard again at the thought of having Dean inside him so soon after the last time. Honestly, Sam had thought for sure there would be no way he'd ever have Dean the way he wanted him after Meg had her way. He was thanking his lucky stars that he was wrong.

All thoughts about Meg went out the window as soon as Sam was on top of him. Dean's spent cock started twitching back to life at the suggestion of naughty fun again. “Mmmm...” he moaned softly, eyes raking over his brother's sexy body. “Please do, Sammy.”


End file.
